


The Times They Are a Changin'

by Pokedash55, Purplefern



Series: All in Good Time [1]
Category: Lego Ninjago
Genre: ADHD Acronix, AU, Acronix Redemption, Acronix has war trauma, Acronix in the modern world, Acronix misses his bro, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Angst, Barista Acronix, Coffee manager is a real Ninjago character and I will protect her, Deal With It, F/M, Fleshing out minor characters, Gen, Here we go, I call the coffee bot shannon, Kinda, Minor Canonical Character(s), Minor Original Character(s), Ninjago Police being bad at their jobs, Post-Season 12, Wu’s teas is canon baby, canon-divergence, coffee shop AU, not important really, not really - Freeform, redemption arc, this is not crack
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-12
Updated: 2021-03-10
Packaged: 2021-03-18 12:55:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 6,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29368863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokedash55/pseuds/Pokedash55, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purplefern/pseuds/Purplefern
Summary: Free from the time vortex, brotherless and powerless, Acronix wanders around Ninjago city alone in the future while he considers revenge and buys coffee everyday from a strange robotic barista.
Relationships: Acronix & Cyrus Borg, Acronix & Echo Zane, Acronix & Krux (Ninjago), Acronix & the Ninja, Coffee bot & ronin, P.I.X.A.L & Acronix, P.I.X.A.L & Coffee bot, P.I.X.A.L./Zane (Ninjago), acronix/coffee bot, mentioned
Series: All in Good Time [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157345
Comments: 12
Kudos: 8





	1. Groundworks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acronix mopes around then gets coffee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh boi here we go! Chapter one baby! This is bouncing right off my "Echo's in Time" fic but that's not 100% needed for this!

The Warrior wandered around the large city. It had only been a week or so since his encounter with the strange bronze plated robot and he couldn’t wait for that little guy to make his way over to the mainland. Of course there was no way he’d be reporting the droid himself. He would just let the power of social media do the hard part for him. Schmucks on the internet had picked him up with ease so there was no doubt the same would soon happen for lil’ rusty over there. 

With that small section of his life complete, he wandered, wondering what to do next. Yep, he sure wandered. Almost every day actually. The Time Twin just roamed the streets alone, looking for something to partake in, without catching word to the Ninja of course. 

Or perhaps he _should_ catch word to the ninja? Now that he was thinking about it, a fight with them sounded pretty good. A scowl deepened on his face as the past couple weeks of their intrusion on his brother's lifelong plan came back into his mind. Wu’s precious angels had not only destroyed Krux’s revenge plan but separated them once more! He was stuck here in the future without his brother -- and even worse, his brother was stuck who-knew-where-or-when without _him, again_ ! They needed to pay for that! All that he had lost, and all that the ninja had done to him, struck him all at once, and his shoulders tensed in rage. Acronix was ready to turn around and get revenge on the Ninja right then and there! Nothing but his fists in their faces! This was all _their_ faults! 

With a sudden burst of rage the infuriated warrior sliced his foot at the underside of an old tattered wooden bench, the planks falling apart to the ground under his boot. 

Parked across the street was a lone police car with two young cadets on one of their several breaks of the day.

“Hey. Um, Yah think we should, uh, do som’in ‘bout that?” questioned the stubbled policemen from the driver's seat, propping his feet up on the wheel in a slouch, and pointing at the lone man who was angrily kicking at the rubbled remains of the bench. 

“About what now?” responded his companion, taking a relaxing sip from his coffee cup, and not even looking at the destructive warrior. 

‘That guy,” the cop lethargically reiterated, waving broadly at where Acronix had settled into a tight angry pacing in front of the bench’s remains, “Ain’t that, like, vandalism? I mean it’s a public park and we’re.. cops?”

“Nah, “ dismissed the shorter cop from the passenger seat, shrugging now that he was actually taking a look at the scene,“That’s the old bench. It was coming down soon anywho. As long as the memorial bench is alright he’s fine.”

Fists still clenching and unclenching with anger, but with no ninja in sight to be on the receiving end of his fist, Acronix grunted in anger at the now demolished olden bench and quickly moved to the next bench. This one had a bronze plaque bolted to it, but he hardly noticed as he swung a fist at its stiff wooden back. 

“Not the commemorative bench!” the cops spit out their beverages in unison as the sleek golden brown planks crashed to the ground, two top bars of the back breaking in half as they impacted with the hard grassy floor. They shared a nod and exited their cozy vehicle to do their jobs for the first time that week. 

“Stop right’ere,” commanded the taller of the two. Acronix loomed over them as he twirled around to face the interlopers to his wrath, his fists fully clenched and ready to fight. 

“You monster!” cried the younger policeman, running over to hug the demolished pieces of the bench to his chest (and wincing ever slightly from a splinter). 

“Aren't yah aware of what yah just did!? That was a _commemorative_ bench!” chided the other cop, pointing his baton at the, in his eyes, rowdy but otherwise pretty normal citizen of Ninjago. 

“Commemorative? Did not look so special to me,” spat the warrior confrontationally, glad to expend his efforts on something that would put up more resistance than a bench. If he couldn’t get back at the Ninja for what they did, he could at least express his displeasure to _someone_. 

“It commemorated all the commemorative benches!” wept the younger, fruitlessly holding the two cracked halves of the bar together in the hopes they would stay.

“At least, it did,” sighed the standing policeman, taking off his hat in mourning. 

Looking down to his similarly grieving companion, he struggled to pull himself together. Meanwhile Acronix looked on in bafflement at the overreacting officers, his anger slipping away some from the sheer bizarre scene in front of him. _These_ were the protectors of Ninjago when the Ninja weren’t around? Wow. He had had his concerns about the other elementals, and _especially_ the powerless warriors from the Serpentine War, but this was just a completely different level of pathetic. 

So pathetic, that when the policeman finally looked back up, and appeared to attempt to _threaten_ him with nothing but a little wooden stick, he could only give a pitying bemused grin in response. The officer, seeing that the criminal wasn’t exactly intimidated, pulled down his hat and stiffened his posture, trying to appear more serious. “If I were you,” he warned lowly, “I would skedaddle away from this park before you do something you might regret.” 

He toyed briefly with the thought of picking a fight with the officer anyway, still brimming with aggressive energy. But, for once, he actually thought twice about jumping into a fight as the previously whining officer stood next to his partner, brandishing manacles of some fashion. It wasn’t that he felt threatened at all -- even with the extra man and even with his powers gone he could take out the two with _literally_ no effort-- it just occurred to him that beating up lawmen and getting arrested would accomplish nothing. 

Rolling his eyes and grumbling, he stalked away from the park (even though he was already regretting passing on the opportunity for having a beat down on the two officers when they both sported self-satisfied grins as he left. He hated leaving a fight with them thinking they had actually _won_.) 

So he returned to his fruitless wanderings, this time in a completely different direction. Still with no plan, no aim, and no place in this world. He probably _should_ work on getting revenge on the Ninja, but planning wasn’t really his thing. And he didn’t want to expose himself with doing something half-baked while he could lay low. (It was too bad all of his ideas were perpetually half-baked.) At least for now, as long as he didn’t get himself almost arrested again, the general public wouldn’t bother with him -- having no idea who he was. The citizens did not know who had stolen the metal and the builders thanks to Krux’s ingenious planning and he’d like to keep it that way.

_Krux_ … the former master’s thoughts returned solemnly back to his brother as he walked aimlessly through the streets of Ninjago City. He had never been separated from his brother this long and that feeling of loneliness began to collapse in on him, overtaking his previous anger. A burning pain that persisted even though his injuries from their battle with Wu were mostly healed. He was his Twin and it dawned on him quite quickly that they had never been separated. At least not in _his_ lifetime. Krux had unfortunately had to suffer 40 years without him by his side and Acronix feared the same may soon happen for him. He tried to shake off these thoughts as he traveled further down the street but they wouldn't leave his mind. At least not at that moment. Acronix sighed and decided it was better to move forward for the time being. Krux wasn’t just going to magically fall out of the sky (Well. He technically could, but that was besides the point) so he should just enjoy the situation he has been forced into. 

So how to enjoy the situation? Make the most of the future he was now probably permanently in, _while_ maintaining a low profile and blending in with the rest of the masses? As he thought, his eyes moved towards a heavily populated building with a luminescent sign displaying the name “The Coffee Shop”. Acronix smiled at the large crowd ( _Krux would absolutely despise this place)_ and entered the door for a cup.

“Can I help you?” a robot cashier asked, her tone bitterly flat as she turned towards the armored man. His eyes scanned over the robotic cashier with surprise, taking in her clearly metallic skin -- even her _hair_ was made of metal. Woah, robots were even _cashiers_ now? And he thought the metal ninja was interesting. A bit of his melancholy receded at the reminder of how amazing the future really was. To think that entire _people_ could be made out of metal and wires, and were so common that they were even around a place like _this._

“Sir, are you planning on ordering?” she asked again, her still bitter tone breaking him out of his musing. 

_Yeeouch, Icy_ He thought, grinning slightly at the sass the robot cashier showed. Going for a nonchalant-aloof-cool look, he languidly looked up at the menu… And stopped immediately when he realized he didn’t know what any of it meant. He hesitated for only a moment, before noticing the girlbot was still staring directly at him - waiting for an order. 

With a long practiced skill of covering up ignorance with charm he leaned sassily on the counter, replying, “How about you just give me whatever _you_ like. You certainly seem like a girl with good taste,” he winked at the droid, raising his brows in hopes she would take the bait. (Robot or not, she was still a girl, and no girl he’d ever known could resist his charm.)

He was quickly disappointed when she barely even blinked at (to his mind) an incredibly flattering remark. 

“So. What do you want?” she asked, again completely stone-faced. 

Acronix stood up from his wonderfully charming position on the counter to look away from her piercing, glowing, purple eyes, “One regular coffee… I guess,” he muttered in defeat. 

“Name?” She intoned, grabbing an empty cup from a nearby stack of medium sized mugs. 

Acronix perked up some at the question, thinking maybe she wanted to know him after all (He _knew_ his lines were clever!) “Acronix,” he replied, laying on all the swagger he could muster with a crooked smile. 

To his confusion and slight dismay, the conversation went nowhere further than that, instead she picked up a nearby sharpie and wrote his name on the cup. He stared at her and she stared aloofly back. 

“Your order will be done soon, sir,” she said, and turned away, signalling the end of the conversation. 

Disappointed, he slumped defeatedly to an empty booth, half-heartedly scrolling through his instabook feed, while he waited for his coffee (Did he even like coffee? He couldn’t recall ever drinking any before. Oh well he was always up for trying new things. _Unlike Krux_ he mused before shoving the thought over with all the other “Things I won’t think about right now”).

“Acorn-is?” called out the android cashier, and Acronix looked up in mild disgust at the butchering of his awesome name. 

Huffing at the disrespect, he swiped the cup from her hand (splashing some of the hot liquid on his heavy sleeve), correcting haughtily, “It’s Acronix.”

“I really don’t care?” she replied with a small gesture of her left hand in the air, with her right hand on her hips, angled ever slightly more than they were before. He could swear that though her face was still in a deadpanned straight line that she was laughing at him. The audacity! … He kinda liked it. 

Narrowing his eyes at her, he took a meaningful sip of his coffee before turning and leaving the shop… and immediately spitting out the bitter beverage. 

_Eugh_ that stuff was _vile_. But, looking back at the doors to the shop and reminiscing about the strong, sassy cashier he encountered, despite still trying to remove the taste of the dark roasted unsweetened drink from his mouth he was already considering coming back the next day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my strange take on an Acronix redemption. Kudos and expecially comments are always appreciated.  
> 


	2. Night at the Museam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sad boi hours

The fluorescent lights of the museum diminished as it closed for the night. Employees flooded the door, raring to leave as they escorted late night museum goers from the facility. Only the night guard, equipped with nothing but a flashlight, and the empty halls of Krux’s long abandoned place of work were left remaining.

Acronix skillfully sliced an opening in the domed ceiling glass, just wide enough for his slim yet muscular build to fit through comfortably. He landed with a clank as his metal rimmed boots made contact with the tile floor but he knew that any noise he made mattered very little (he was a warrior not a ninja after all). He observed that the only person in the building was the security guard and by the way he nervously roamed the halls with nothing but a light there was no way he could be of any concern.

He made his way down the catacombs of boring displays and ancient relics (seriously how had his twin lived here for forty years?) and arrived at the room for displaying the age of the Serpentine War, where he had first reunited with Krux. Acronix activated one of the hidden levers and entered his brother's old lair, cleaning some dust from his face as he took a step.

Looking around brought a strange feeling of nostalgia typically foriegn to the master of future time. The desk was still cluttered with charts, blueprints, plans, lists, and many other papers Krux used for organization that had been left in scattered piles that he was sure only his brother understood the order of. And the work table sat in the exact same place as they had left it a couple years ago-- loaded with beakers, bottles, and glass cocoons that once held a promising immortal snake army. Turning towards the desk, he shuffled the papers into a pile and attempted to read one of the lists scratched onto the paper in his older twin’s handwriting. Although Acronix couldn't quite understand all his Biotechnical science notes he was glad to have been able to hear his twin’s way of speak again, even if only in writing,

Turning away from the papers he looked up at the now shut off television. This was where he had first learned of the wonders of technology, something he couldn't think of living without now, and where he first learned how much his brother hated it. Or at least had said he hated it. Even though he had spoken ill of the devices every second of everyday Acronix could tell by the way he swayed and how he moved his hands ever slightly that he couldn’t have constructed his lifelong plan without it!

Acronix took his heavy gloves off and set them on the elongated table next to some glass jar of stuff, kicking off his heavy boots as well. (Pushing aside the small voice in his head that sounded like his brother that chided him about leaving his things all over the floor.) He grabbed the miscellaneous stack of papers and shoved them onto a shelf full of history books and a singular leather bound scrapbook. His eyebrows perked up at the sight of it and he carried the book back with him to his quarters.

Going through the doorless wall frame felt almost too strange to comprehend. Here he was, a year and a half in the future. Almost two years from when he and his brother schemed to conquer Ninjago in this very room. And everything was the same. Despite some nooks and crannies developing patches of dust it was just how they left it that fateful day. It felt wrong. One of the worst things Acronix could think of was a lack of progress. A lack of change. And here he was sitting in the exact same place he was 2 years ago. As strange as it was to be standing face to face with the past he almost was grateful that it had not changed. That no one had come in and altered what Krux worked so hard to maintain for 40 years. He thought that maybe he should keep it just like this for when Krux got home. Krux would like that.

Acronix settled into the makeshift bed and ran his hands across the vintage leather cover of the scrapbook he brought with him. He also noticed the scratchy twine binding he was certain that Krux had woven himself. Acronix rolled his eyes at the purposefully old and tacky build and flipped to the most recent entry. There was a printed group selfie he had taken of himself, The Back of Krux’s Head, a frowning Cyrus Borg, General Machia and the overall useless Blunck and Raggmunk. Guess his grump of a brother didn’t hate all photos after all. Purposefully ignoring the way his eyes had started to burn, he closed the stupid old and ragged book (that held NO value cause reminiscing was stupid and pointless) and tossed the book on the ground. What mattered in the past shouldn’t matter. What mattered was tomorrow.

With a deep sigh Acronix stood up from the bed and took off all his armor, leaving him in a simple breathable long sleeved dark red tunic. Getting comfortable once more he pushed away those thoughts of longing for a time with Krux. He boxed up the notions of the past as he sat alone in the quiet and dark museum. Alone…. He didn’t want to linger on that word but he couldn't help it. When was the last time he was truly alone? Truly without a broth-NOPE he shook his head. No no nahda no. No way he was thinking about that again today. In an attempt to quell the emptiness growing within him he considered once again what to do tomorrow. Well, another day meant new experiences. New experiences to replace the old. New experiences like…. new coffee flavors? New experiences like… new people? It wasn’t much but it was something to look forward to.

Even in his totally-not-brooding he quirked a smile at the thought of attempting to actually get to that sassy barista at the coffee shop. She had definitely been an interesting new person (and totally not just because she was a robot and that was super cool or anything). Whether he would annoy her or make her swoon, either way he enjoyed the idea of getting a reaction out of the stoic bot.

So, anyway, at least he had some kind of plan. Coffee shop. Sounds good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my strange take on an Acronix redemption. Kudos and especially comments are always appreciated.  
> 


	3. Actions Speak Louder Than Words

“Well, hello again,” coyly greeted Acronix, leaning over the counter, once again at The Coffee Shop the following morning (wasn’t like he had anything else better to do). 

“Have I seen you before?” she asked drily in reply, arms casually hanging down by her side. 

The customer placed his hands on his hips and grumbled in both confusion and anger. 

“Do, you  _ seriously _ not remember  _ me _ ?” he slammed his hands on the countertop. No one has ever come face to face with  _ Acronix  _ **_Hand of Time_ ** and not given him another thought **_._ ** No one. He gave the robot an almost sincere look of hurt as she shrugged, expressionless. 

Recomposing himself he once again scanned the menu for something to order, always glancing back to see if she changed at all. Last time the manager had stayed completely still, something he hadn’t seen before. Like, literally completely still. Even with all his experience reading body language on the battlefield, he hadn’t known what to do with that. 

To his surprise, this time she was swaying ever so slightly where she stood, as he began taking a little  _ too  _ long to order, a small line forming behind him. A quick glance at her face showed that, contrary to her subtle fidget, her face was its same straight line. Despite that, he also noticed a tenseness in her shoulders alongside the sway. 

_ Hmm, nervous are we?  _ He thought. So she  _ did  _ feel after all. He tucked that pocket of information away.

“Either order something or get out of line,” she ordered, voice slightly louder than before but otherwise still weighing on the same tone. 

“Feisty,” he smiled, crossing his arms. 

He had the distinct impression that she was even  _ less  _ amused by that remark, and grinned a little wider in amusement. (It was just fun getting on her nerves, especially since she had posed such a unique challenge for him to do so. He couldn’t help feeling a little victorious at the response.)

“Sir. If you don’t place an order I can and will kick you out myself,” she responded, no less monotone, but giving off a completely venomous vibe all the same. He could tell by looking over her body language for guidance that she was serious. How bold! 

As much as he loved a good fight, he did not want to spark one with this girl on day two (plus if he did he wouldn’t get his coffee). Not to mention that she’d lose easily and then he’d be banned from the shop. Then where’d he hang out? 

“Tall caffé misto,” he confidently ordered, despite not knowing what it meant. 

The robot mechanically repeated the same actions of the day prior; grabbing a cup and requesting a name. Acronix huffed once more that she didn’t remember his name, and then went to take a seat at an open booth, too annoyed to even scroll through his phone this time. Instead he kept his glare on the robogirl as she went through the motions of responding to other customers and simultaneously making drinks. 

“ACron -ix,” called out the barista,  _ once again  _ butchering his awesome name. 

Scowling, he went up to the counter to grab his drink once again, glaring at her as he did so. “It’s still AcrONix,” he corrected her snidely, once again ripping the paper cup from her hand. 

“Still don’t care,” she effortlessly retorted, this time her posture was less amused and more actually annoyed. He personally decided to take that as a kind of victory. 

“Hmph,” he snorted, and turned and left the shop with a proud dignity. 

Once outside, he took a tentative sip of this new coffee, and this time just barely managed to swallow it. Taking the lid off, he stared speculatively at the beverage and its lighter brown color than the day previous. Considering, he took another sip. Euch. Nope. Still bad. Well, it at least tasted like it had milk in it this time, which was marginally better than whatever crap he had had to throw out yesterday. 

And this one would be sharing that fate, he decided as he chucked the full cup into the nearest trash can he could find. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my strange take on an Acronix redemption. Kudos and especially comments are always appreciated.  
> 


	4. He took an L (lavator)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Acronix spends the day at Borg Tower

Welp. With the coffee gotten and discarded, that was that plan for the day. And it was only -- he checked his phone-- Noon. He absently tapped his hand against his thigh, trying to think of something else to do with the day. 

He still couldn’t really get revenge on the Ninja. And thinking on it, trying to do it without Krux here felt wrong, so he was going to keep avoiding the Ninja for now. So that ruled out a lot of possible options. 

Shrugging, he tucked the phone into his belt (and made a mental note to get some clothes with pockets when he got money, whenever that was. And then made a mental note about needing money at some point), and decided to head to Borg Tower. That was definitely a pretty cool place to waste a few hours. 

Stepping through the automatic sliding doors of the entrance to Borg Industries (and then going out and back in a couple of times, amusedly watching the doors open and shut from his presence), he took to loitering around the lower floor of the Tower, which had been conveniently converted into a sort of shopping area for the general public. Neat. 

The shiny tablet screens on display glistened and reflected his complexion as Acronix strolled by. He scanned up and down the device, taking note of the many different sizes they all came in and seeing one of the larger Borgpads reminded him of his own. He had lost his in the Time Vortex, and he brought a hand to his scratchy chin as he looked up and down the rows of shiny new borgpads, strongly considering “acquiring” a new one. That idea was quickly shot down when he received a sharp glare and a tilt of a gun from one of the white guardroids. 

He rolled his eyes and backed away from the row of “Display Only”, which calmed the sentry enough for it to continue on its prowl of the area. When he had decided to try and avoid being arrested, he hadn’t thought it would actually be that difficult. While admiring one of the large flatscreens mounted into the walls of the tower his expression dropped to that of near paranoia. On the screen he suddenly saw the distorted reflection of a scaled pattern and all too familiar build. No… this reflection couldn’t be, it had to be a trick of technology somehow. Was there truly a serpentine just behind him?!

The veteran’s hands moved behind his back to pull his hood up, clutching only the air as he realized he had decided not to wear the heavy armor for going around the city (wearing ancient armor with his logo in bright gold definitely would not help with the whole “lay low” thing). 

He whirled around, shoulders tensed and he couldn't stop his fingers from forming to a tight fist at his waist side. Acronix looked really out of place now as he stared at what was no trick of the eyes, but an actual serpentine.  _ The serpentine were entombed.  _ He thought. Without realizing it his mind switched into combat analysis mode; he began noting everything he could collect about the customer. Green, missing scales on their left arm (possibly a weak spot that would be easy to strike), and they seemed to be… friendly with a human, he noted with confusion. Overly so, in fact. 

The venomari placed an arm around a shorter person by their side, looking into their human companion’s eyes with an intensity that was definitely more than friendly. Oh. So the two were like  _ that _ . Acronix could only stand there, utterly bewildered and in a rare moment at a complete loss for words. So, he assessed once his brain had recovered enough from the shock, not only were the serpentine free from the tombs the elemental alliance had worked so hard to imprison them in, on peaceful terms with the surface, AND could live in harmony, society had apparently now come so far that humans and snakes could fall in love. 

Acronix dropped his guard at the sight, running his hands amusedly (yet nervously) through his long hair as he realized that times had indeed changed. The war was over and that was a good thing. That reminder of the past made his mind wander, thinking about the laughs and memories camping out on the battlefield with his brother. No matter how bad the war may have been they had been able to make it a grand time together. Looking for something to once again distract his drifting mind, his eyes followed the oblivious couple as they waltzed past a strange set of glass boxes with a metallic door. 

Approaching the sign on the wall next to the machine after the couple had fully retreated from the area (he didn’t completely trust these new “friendly” serpentine, and would rather keep his distance), he read aloud to himself in puzzlement, “Elevator?” Under the sign there was a set of buttons, one signalling up and one down. He tilted his head ever slightly, his hand resting on his chin as he reflected on the buttons’ possible meaning. He pressed the “up arrow” and within seconds a glass box full of people descended to meet his button pressing command. 

The small group wandered out of the glass room, chatting about the tour they went on. He shoved his way through the crowd and entered the glass box. Looking up he could see a track winding up the tower.  _ If it descended to meet me does that mean…  _ his curiosity brought his gaze to a large panel of glowing buttons. He poked a random number near the middle to test his theory and sure enough, the doors gently closed and began to lift him up to the designated floor.

“Incredible! A fully automated lift!” He exclaimed with a wide smile, his hands gesturing excitedly in the air. He smooshed his face against the glass wall as the elevator exited the lower building and shot outside, displaying a marvelous view of the cityscape. An array of dark oranges, reds, and yellows shone through the horizon as the sun was near setting. He was now fully leaning like a child on the wall laughing at the people now brought to the size of insignificant ants as he was brought up the tower. He took out his phone to capture everything. The sunset on the horizon, the people down below, and the elevator itself. 

The elevator stopped at the floor number he had pressed and instead of walking out he pressed another button to ride the thing down. And then up. And then down again. Acronix gleefully rode up and down the elevator until the sun was no longer in the sky and the city lit up all sorts of blues, golds, and vibrant pink neons. He wanted to get a look at the city from every possible height and angle. While he was taking a few more pictures of the new sight there was a polite and slightly robotic feminine voice over the intercom, “Borg Industries will be closing in 5 minutes. Please head to the exit at this time. Thank you for your visit and we hope you come again soon.”

Acronix ignored the warning and continued his fun up and down the elevator, noticing something different in the city down below out of the window each time. 

“Borg Industries is now closed. Thank you for your visit and we hope you come again soon.” The intercom echoed the message and the elevator stopped on the next floor, automatically opening its doors to signal it was time for patrons to leave the facility. He jammed the buttons aggressively, nowhere near ready to halt in his fun. The doors didn’t budge no matter what he did, and he eventually left the elevators, pouting. He wanted to go all the way to the top of the tower! He was certain it would look fantastic, especially during the night when the city was illuminated by so many colorful lights. Wandering down the hall, he looked for the stairs. Automatic lift or not, he needed to see how small and insignificant everyone else would certainly look from the top of such a large building, and the fact that it was closed meant little to him.

Acronix was a good third of the way up the blue luminescent winding stairs when he heard the footsteps of someone descending from above him. 

“We are closed. I suggest you vacate the building before I am required to use force,” spoke the figure, and getting a good look at them in the dark hallway, he momentarily stopped in awe of what was in front of him. 

Another lady robot? She was much shinier than the one at the coffee shop, though, and with a full suit of dark blue armor. Actually, some very familiar looking armor. “You!” he shouted, pointing an accusatory finger at the woman, “You’re that samurai that tried to help the Ninja to deactivate our Iron Doom!” 

Pixal didn’t flinch at the comment, instead her expression grew stonier, with a strained anger that was kept forcefully civil she replied, “And you are one of the men who kidnapped my father.” 

“Your….father?” mused Acronix aloud, scratching his head and trying to figure out how that worked. Could machines be said to have “fathers”? Apparently this one thought so. He quickly went through a mental list of who she could be talking about. They had kidnapped a lot of people. Considering this was Borg Tower, though, that gave him a pretty good idea. Smirking at the memory he asked, “Oh, you mean Cyrus Borg? Samurai, we only acquired him for his incredible skills. Actually, you should tell him he did a wonderful job on the Iron Doom,” he advised Pixal, who unsheathed two swords from behind her back. Desperate to try not to get arrested for the third time in one week he commented hastily , a hand behind his neck, “I assure you it was nothing personal?” He tried to reassure the samurai, not used to actually having to justify his actions. Admittedly, though, he rather doubted that she would go for it. She was armed to the teeth and looking incredibly mad.

Deadpanned, Pixal clutched her swords tighter and retorted, “But  _ this _ is very personal,” the samurai swung her swords, and the hand of time immediately lunged to the right to avoid the blow. He bounced off of the wall of the narrow stairwell, looping around to move behind her. Pixal didn’t miss a beat, swivelling her foot to readjust the swords’ arc behind her.

“Quick on your feet huh?” He started to quip, dodging her assault, “Ironic considering your father!” he joked, landing on the next stair up. Her face flushed in anger at the remark and the negative reaction only made his adrenaline-fueled grin grow wider. 

Finally! A good fight! Fisting his hands, he settled into an attacking stance, throwing a punch towards the nindroid’s unprotected face. No powers, no weapon, it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t spend the fight on the defensive. 

The samurai fluidly swerved to the right to avoid his blow in complete silence, moving into another swing as she did. Using the momentum from his swing, he turned into a flip down the stairs to be behind the samurai once again, scowling to himself as he did. He barely avoided that blow. Really, he  _ shouldn’t  _ have been able to dodge at that angle. His frown deepened as he skipped down the stairs some to avoid another swing. She was going easy on him! 

If she wasn't even going to actually fight him, what was the point of him being here? He didn’t owe her anything, and she wasn’t going to let him complete his original plan of making it to the top of the tower. 

“I hate to be leaving so soon, but unfortunately ‘Borg industries is now closed’ ” He mimicked her flat intercom recording tone. That made her entire body tense in irritation. “Aw don’t be mad. I’ll make sure to come again soon!” 

Bored of this fight and content with his final words, he threw himself over the stair railing and landed solidly onto the lower flight and dashed out of the building. 

He crisscrossed around the city for a little bit before heading back to the museum, to make sure that he wasn’t being followed back to his current hideout. When he was satisfied there was no robotic samurai trailing him, he snuck back to the history museum through the hole in the skylight he had made before. (It was a good thing no one ever thought to check skylights.) 

He snuck through the halls of exhibits, giving the usual night guards' routes wide berth to prevent being thrown out of a building for the second time that night. The precaution didn’t stop him from dropping by the donation box for his *ahem* “income” for the day. (Hey, the way he saw it it was  _ going to  _ go to the museum, which his brother  _ would have _ worked at, so it was kind of like he was just taking the money that he would have had access to anyway.) 

Back at the hideout, he threw himself onto the bed and yawned, beginning his end-of-day ritual of looking through his social media feeds. Even as he did, he couldn’t get the thought of that lady samurai out of his head. As interesting as the fact was that there were apparently more robot women than he had thought, she was nothing like the one at the coffee shop. She was mean, but not like fun mean. 

He frowned to himself, thinking of her no-nonsense voice and the way she had  _ clearly  _ held back against him in their battle.

No, she had been more like Mom-mean. Like disappointed-teacher-mean. No-nonsense-rule-following-mean. Those were the worst.

Speaking of the coffee bot, he needed to have a better idea of what to order the next day when he went down there. He was tired of not knowing what he was doing. Before long, the robot cashier was going to pick up on his cluelessness, and he didn’t want that. 

Taking to the internet, he browsed information on different types of coffee, gladly learning the surprisingly complicated world of hot beverages. The hour was late by the time he felt he actually understood all of the differences between Frappuccino and a cappuccino and latte and espresso and dark roast and flat whites and macchiatos and- Well he didn’t know everything but it was enough. At least, enough that he could order more confidently tomorrow. 

Yawning again, he fumbled to put his phone on the charger and went to bed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading my strange take on an Acronix redemption. Kudos and especially comments are always appreciated.  
> 


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